Lost
by Efrite
Summary: Daniela is a 32-year-old woman who lives in the Maritimes, Canada, and gets pushed into a life of hardship and danger against her will. Rating is subject to change as story develops.
1. Chapter 1

Greetings!

It's been a long time since I've attempted to write anything so this should be an adventure. :)  
For the time being, this fic is rated T for language, but, I will change that if/when it changes. The only things I own of this are the original characters that I created.

These chapters will not be very long because I'm a very busy Mom. I'll try to do an update at least every other day. Critiques are more than welcome, though.

If you spot a structural error, please don't hesitate to inform me. I'm only human and will be doing my best.

Enjoy!

**1**

So many things can happen so fast. One minute you can be enjoying a cup of tea and the next you're in another place entirely.

I was relaxing with a friend in the country when it all started. We were lounging in a pair of big lawn chairs agreeing to disagree about her upcoming wedding. She wanted me in turquoise. I wanted to wear dark plum/grey. Really, though. I have dark chocolate coloured eyes and short hair with caramel coloured skin; I'd look terrible in turquoise. As an athletic 5'6" woman, I really don't want to look silly when I'm in front of all those cameras with my best friend.

"I'm just saying, Daniela, I really like turquoise. It's bright and cheerful!" She sighed.

"I agree. It's a nice colour, Sarah, but, I would look very silly. I do winter colours, Hun. Dark plum and grey would be much better." I reasoned.

"Will you at least consider it if I find a tasteful dress?"

"Sure, if you do the same for dark plum and grey." I countered.

"You never give up, Daniela." Sarah shook her head in exasperation.

"Where would the fun in that be?" I winked mischievously with a grin.


	2. Chapter 2

Here's the second drabble of Lost. I know it's not very long, but, I don't care. I'm having so much fun writing this. ^_^

**2**

Those lawn chairs couldn't have been that uncomfortable. We found ourselves back out in them after a dinner of fettuccine alfredo, broiled chicken and a garden salad. The temperature had dropped a little, so we both grabbed big, thick blankets to bury ourselves in.

"Cheers!" A light ting was made as our crystal glasses lightly tapped together. "And here's hoping that this mess gets ironed out and I don't have to become a 'Bridezilla'." Sarah leaned back against the back of the chair with her legs crossed; her wine glass resting on her lap in her right hand.

"Here, here." I happily seconded with a wink. "I'll smack you back to sanity, if you stray. Don't worry."

"You're such a thoughtful friend." Sarah rolled eyes sarcastically. "Seriously, though, thank you, Daniela. You're the best." The latter part rang with sincerity.

"You're welcome, Sarah." I smiled happily before taking a sip of wine. I closed my eyes and hummed with pleasure at the dry red dancing on my tongue. When I opened my eyes, everything was blurred like I was seeing through a long but narrow tunnel of fog. I saw a fleeting image of a figure in white flying through the air between what looked like a couple of old buildings. I twitched back in confusion and my free hand reached up to rub my eyes.

"Are you ok, Daniela?" She sounded closer than she had been. "You're Italian. You haven't had nearly enough wine to be drunk." Leave it to Sarah to poke fun at me.

"I'm not sure. One of my contacts must have slipped." I opened my eyes again as I spoke to find that they'd cleared and I could see, again. "They seem to be ok, now." I shrugged. It didn't make sense.

"What happened?" She inquired.

"I'm really not sure." I shook my head as I looked at Sarah. " I was sipping my wine. I closed my eyes to savour the flavour. When I re-opened them, everything was blurry." I looked back to where I'd seen the figure in white jump across my vision. "You're not the only one wondering what happened, Sarah."


	3. Chapter 3

**3**

"Are you sure you're gonna be ok, Daniela?" My concerned friend asked while leaning in my open car window.

"I don't exactly have much choice in the matter, Sarah." I replied. I was arranging my things on the passenger seat and center console for the drive home, not looking at her and hoping that she'd let me leave.

"It's just that your contacts haven't ever given you this much trouble. I'm worried about you driving home." Sarah countered.

"It's not that bad. I just have to be careful, is all." I reasoned. Once I had everything settled where I wanted it, I turned to look at her.

"Daniela, you couldn't see for 15 minutes the last time it happened." Sarah rubbed her arms.

"I will admit that that was really freaky, but, I can't stay here forever. I have to go home at some point."One eyebrow twitched in irritation as I started my car.

"I know. I just wish there was another way to get you home."

I sighed. "Look, Hun. I know it's dangerous, but I have to do it."

Sarah frowned and crossed her arms. "I think you should stay another night. Who knows? Whatever's affecting you may go away by morning?"

I groaned. Sarah had been trying to convince me to stay a third night for the last few hours and, to be honest, it was getting old. I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. "If I say I'll miss you, will you leave me be?" I re-opened my eyes and looked her in the face." I love ya, Sweetie, but I really am going to be ok. I've done this route so many times that I'm positive I could drive it while sleeping."

Sarah studied my determined face before sighing in resignation. "Fine. Call when you get home?"

"Of course." I nodded and drove off once Sarah backed away.


	4. Chapter 4

**4**

I hadn't planned it, but, I'm glad I made the drive while church was in. The roads were deserted until I got back to Saint Andrews. Sarah was glad to hear from me but she wasn't happy to hear that I had to make frequent stops.

I changed from my jeans and t-shirt to a pair of white yoga pants and white sleeveless hoodie. My sandals were swapped for a pair of black socks in a pair of posh white, grey and black Nike Free's. It's always nice to be home; even if you're close to questioning your sanity.

I stretched with a contented smile before heading to the bathroom to remove my contacts. I didn't wear them while alone at home. They irritated my eyes too much and I was curious to know if they were the reason behind everything going blurry. That done, I turned to head down the hallway to go outside and exercise in the back yard.

Half way there, my vision faded to white and I could feel my left shoulder leaning on the wall as I stumbled to a halt.

"What's going on?" I wondered out loud. I lifted my hands up to push myself away from the wall but I kept my left on it, for stability. All I could see was white fog with a widening tunnel in it. It was nearly as tall as me, now. I could see what looked like the same figure in white sitting on a bench looking down at his feet with his arms resting on his knees. A shimmer in the blur produced some armed and armoured men running past and out of sight. The tunnel wasn't as long as the last time and for some reason, that made me nervous. Seeing the man stand up and look around before moving away drew me ahead a few steps. I stopped as soon as I noticed the end of the tunnel coming closer as I walked.

I'm guessing that my legs gave out at that last realization, because, when my brain finally stopped tripping over itself, I discovered that I was huddled on the floor with my hands pressed to my eyes. After a short while of me huddled on the floor, I gingerly moved my right hand and peeked out cautiously. I let out a deep sigh of relief when I recognized my familiar hallway and back door.

Everything was so much stronger and more vivid after removing my contacts. Part of me wanted to go put my contacts back in to see if doing so would stop what was happening, but, I was almost certain that it wouldn't matter. It was more a question of 'when' as opposed to 'if'.


	5. Chapter 5

**5**

The day after I got home, the visions were coming so often that I decided to call work and take my vacation time. I had about 3 weeks accrued, and I couldn't think of a better time to use them. Thankfully, I didn't have very many clients scheduled and of those, only two were regulars.

As the next couple days passed, I got used to having to suddenly stop, sit down and wait for the foggy tunnel to fade. After noticing that the more I moved, the shorter the tunnel became, I always tried to stop moving. I had plenty of groceries stocked up, so I really didn't need to leave my home.

Sadly, for all my efforts, simply staying still didn't stop the end of the tunnel from getting closer as the days passed. I'm resigned to the fact that 'something' was going to happen so I packed my trusty black backpack with some essentials, a few hours ago. A toothbrush, a tube of toothpaste, a hair brush, a big bottle of body wash, a big thick towel and my small first aid kit went into the backpack along with a change of clothes and a warmer coat. I was already wearing my favourite white baggy pants, sleeveless hoodie and Nike's.

I'm walking around my home looking at pictures of my parents and brothers when everything goes blurry, again. My best guess was that once the tunnel was completely gone, I would be in another place and, quite possibly, time. My worst guess? I would be in a white padded room wearing a coat with really long sleeves. Charming, I know.

I felt for my backpack next to me, picked it up and slung it on my back. The tunnel's end was only a couple feet ahead. Some would say that 'fate' was something everybody encountered. I never was sure if I agreed with them, but, I did know that whatever was pushing me through this tunnel was awfully persistent. I'm not above admitting that I was terrified and that my hands shook. So I took a deep breath and walked the remaining two steps to cross the end of the tunnel. If I had no choice, why not meet it head on? I wasn't expecting everything to go blindingly white before fading to black.


	6. Chapter 6

**6**

**Disclaimer: I don't know or speak Italian beyond the sparse words I remember from playing the AC games. Google Translate, FTW!**

I always found it strange when I didn't dream while sleeping. My friend, Sarah, would always call me weird for having and remembering my dreams.

Black. Blacker. Blackest. It's all I see. I feel like I'm floating in darkness. I can't feel my arms or legs, but, I'm strangely calm.

Smell. I smell grass and something else. What is it? It smells like too many unwashed people but stronger.

Something's tickling my nose and left arm. My eyebrows knitted together in confusion. I'm lying on my left side with my knees bent in front of me. While flexing my limbs out for a stretch, I noticed that I couldn't feel my right hand. It probably went numb, again.

A soft sigh escaped my lips as I crack my eyes open only to close them tight with a pained grunt. My left hand drifts up to rub my eyes. Moving my right hand only confirmed my suspicion.

"Ow." I mutter unhappily, in English. "Stupid, evil death orb." I hear the faint creak of new leather near my head.

"Cosa?" A male Italian voice blurts out. More fabric shifts and my face is in the shade.

"Huh? Oh." My long unused Italian surfaced and I tried again. "Mi dispiace. That hurt more than I care to admit." I crack my eyes open, again, to see him sitting between the late afternoon sun and I. My eyes blink open as I massage the numbness from my right hand.

"Are you well?" He smiles while he studies my face. "I noticed you lying over in the grass with your bag next to you. I thought you would be more comfortable in the shade."

"Where am I?" Since I wasn't quite awake yet, I chose to ignore his question in favour of one or two of my own. Once the numbness in my hand subsided, I pushed myself up to sit cross legged, facing the rugged looking man. "Who are you?" His bearded face and short dark hair gave him a gruff appearance. He, too, sat with his legs crossed in a green shirt with gold stripes. There was brown leather covering much of his chest and gloves on his hands. His dark eyes studied my face as he contemplated his response.

"My name is Bartolomeo D'Alviano. Who might you be?" His smile was inviting. "You are near the west end of Antico district in Roma, Bella."

I take a quick look around to see sparse trees, long and short green grass and old buildings that dotted the rolling hills. The grass and trees were very green. So green that it didn't quite seem real, as if this were some sort of very elaborate hallucination. I turned back to regard Bartolomeo.

"I'm Daniela. Daniela Savonorola." I'm smile politely. "Wait. Did you say Roma?" I can feel the blood drain from my face. "This is going to sound weird, but, what year is it?" My voice sounded weak to my ears.

"It is 1501 in May." He responds with a touch of confusion. "Are you not well? You are very pale." His right hand reached out and I feel its comforting weight on my shoulder.

"Not really, no, thank you." I close my eyes and take a deep breath. "I'll be ok. I would love to have a bed to rest in, though." Again, I hear the faint creak of new leather, so, I open my eyes to see him with his left hand extended towards me.

"Come. Pantasilea will love to meet you. We have a spare room in our home."

My grateful smile is all the response he needed. I can only hope that I wasn't making a mistake.


	7. Chapter 7

When I told myself that I'd be a new person this year, I wasn't expecting this.

It's been five days since Bartolomeo found me and invited me into his home with him and his wife, Pantasilea. She's still trying to get me into a dress, but, I'm holding firm, for now. Pantasilea is very persistent, though.

Yea, Bartolomeo's home; it wasn't exactly what I had imagined. He called it the Caserma di Alviano. He had said that there were many people living there but he'd forgotten to mention that it was a barracks where he trained men to fight for him. Save for the older architecture, it looked like a series of block apartment buildings stuck together. We entered by the south gate and I got my first view of two men sparring with real swords.

Meeting Pantasilea was a real surprise. She's a beautiful woman who's deeply in love with Bartolomeo. She has straight brown hair and blue eyes that give her an aristocratic appearance that the freckle on her right cheek only enhances. I didn't understand how they could connect so well, for the first few days, until I saw them working together on plans for the guard rotations. I overheard them planning something in the study, late one night. All I could hear was Bartolomeo getting agitated and Pantasilea gently calming him down before taking over with the skill of a natural leader. It sounded like there were a few others there, but, I didn't stick around to listen. Mom always told me it was rude to eavesdrop on another's business.

The next day, nobody mentioned what the meeting had been about. Sure, I was curious, but I wasn't about to go around asking. I was still trying to make sense of how I got sent through time; forget asking questions about secret meetings, for now. I did see one guy in white and red robes with a hood walking out the gates with Bartolomeo. He looked well armed and dangerous with the sword and armor that I saw. I simply continued on my way exploring.

There was a moment of happiness, though. One day I was out exploring the training areas when I came across a small ball of yellow and white fur. I knelt down to pick it up and saw the sweetest pair of yellow and green eyes on the tiny male kitten. Poor thing looked hungry, so I brought him 'home'. Pantasilea didn't object so I knew that Bartolomeo wouldn't, either. Now all I needed was a name for him.

A knocking on my door jolted me out of my memories of the last few days. Little Katsu bumped my still hand, demanding that I continue petting him, to which I felt obliged.

"Come in!" I called out. I'm stretched out on my right side in bed having a lazy day. I relaxed most of the day away in my white pants, sleeveless hoodie and Nike's. Little Katsu was purring contentedly.

Pantasilea opened the door and took a step in with a smile. Today, she wore an elegant green and brown dress with blue accents. Her hair was left unadorned save for a couple rings of gold chain that went around her head like a crown. Her neck was graced with the same style of gold chain.

"I haven't seen you much, today. Are you well?" She inquired politely. "Supper will be soon."

"I am, thanks. I just didn't feel like going out." A grateful smile curved my lips. Deciding that I'd had enough of my room, I lifted and swung my legs off the side of my bed and stood up. "Did you need a hand with supper?" I first grabbed and donned my warm cloak, then I picked up Katsu to set him on my shoulder. Late April is still a bit chilly.

"Bene." She held her right hand out towards me. "Let's go see what we can prepare." I linked my left arm with hers and we headed for the kitchen. I had plenty of time to try to make sense of the mess that had become my life.


	8. Chapter 8

**If mistakes are spotted, please let me know? Enjoy!**

**8**

"Please, Bartolomeo?" I pleaded. We're standing in his study at one of the infrequent times that he's home during the day. Most often, he's away in Roma with a number of his mercenaries.

"I would rather not, Daniela." He replied resolutely while closing the door. Two of the walls are lined, floor to ceiling, with shelves stuffed with books of all sizes. The third wall holds a variety of weapons around a stone fireplace. His beloved Bianca has the place of honour, on the fireplace's mantle. Who is Bianca, you ask? Bianca is a two-handed long sword with leather wrapped hilt and a concave cross piece. He cherishes and uses Bianca with deadly efficiency. Believe me, I watch him train.

"But all I want is to be able to do is defend myself." I retorted stubbornly. "I can't do simple errands without some soldier thinking that I'm available for hire."

"I will send an escort with you, if you do not feel safe in Roma." Came his quick counter. He motioned me to take a seat while he settled in his chair behind his desk. "It would be easier for you to blend in if you wore a dress, though. They are suspicious of you in your white pants and sleeveless shirt."

I slump down into the wooden chair closest to me. "Where I come from, women wear pants much more often than dresses. Also, I'm not like other girls. Instead of drinking tea and reading novels, I wear pants and captain the soccer team." My reply is lightly laced with irritation as my bare arms cross over my chest."Please don't try to re-direct the conversation. I want to learn how to defend myself. In the 3 weeks that I've been here, I've been propositioned 5 times."

"I do not train women." He stubbornly retorted. A firm knock sounded on the door making him turn from me to look at the door. "Come in." Pantasilea calmly opened the door to see us. A playful grin bloomed on her face as she took in my stubborn posture and Bartolomeo's frustrated expression. This isn't the first time that she's walked in on us butting heads; or the second, if memory serves.

"The group you wanted to meet with is here. They're at the fighting ring waiting for you, Bartolomeo. Daniela, would you come to the market with me? There are some things I must retrieve." She calmly spoke to us.

"Sure." I replied. "Just let me grab my cloak and sneakers." I quickly stand and retrieve my things from my room before meeting Pantasilea by the front door.

"Come. A few of the boys will be coming with us so we will gather them and then head out in the carriage." She links her left arm with me as we leave the house. By 'boys' she meant Bartolomeo's mercenaries. Speaking with a few of the mercenaries didn't take long: Adolfo, Rocco, and Lucca went for horses.

By the time we got into the carriage by the western gate, the boys were ready and waiting. The carriage lurched into motion once we were settled.

Roma, here we come.


	9. Chapter 9

**I'd like to thank Tropical Storm Arthur for knocking out our power and internet for 4 days. **

**9**

June is my favourite month. Today is the 7th and the sun is warming my freshly tanned arms. I love walking around the market, especially in my white pants and sleeveless hoodie.

The wind playfully dances across my face when I hear an irate man yelling above the common chatter of the marketplace. Humming a tune from Great Big Sea, I carefully look over the farmer's selection of vegetables. Sadly, there isn't much for selection; dried corn, small potatoes, turnip and a wide selection of herbs. What I wouldn't give for an avocado or two.

With my bag sitting on the produce cart, I'm haggling with the vendor when a painful grip attaches itself to my right arm. "Ow! Excuse you! Do you mind?" I turn and snap at the person accosting me. His red and black militia uniform tells me that he isn't one to be trifled with. His bearded face and shaggy brown hair are unkempt and badly in need of a wash.

"Assassino!" He yells in my face before he proceeds to drag me away. "You're coming with me." My bag lies forgotten on the vendor's cart.

"What?" Stunned, he easily pulls me along until my brain catches up. "No. I'm no assassin. What are you talking about? I've never hurt anybody, before!" I shout in reply. The painful grip on my arm doesn't stop me from continuing to try to get away. "Let me go, Jerk!"

"Listen, Assassino Putana, you're coming with me. Stop resisting or I'll find a quiet alley and make you." He comes to a stop, turns and gives me a lewd, hungry look. A tingle skittered down my spine at the implication.

"Go ahead and try, Ass. You don't scare me." I snarl viciously. My vision explodes with stars and everything wavers. I didn't even see the right hook he delivered to the side of my face; so much for my martial arts training. I stagger sideways and can feel his arm circle my chest while still gripping my right arm. The feeling of being caught in his dubious embrace makes by stomach give an unhappy flop. Tears dripped off the tip of my chin and nose.

He shuffles us off into an alley while I try to regain my scrambled marbles. I feel him roughly grab shoulders and shove me against a wooden wall a short ways in. More stars sparkle in my vision to accompany the burst of pain on the back of my head. Wooden walls are not soft.

"The Borgia won't care if you're injured, when I bring you in," He grins maliciously, his face mere inches from mine. "only that you live." I feel his left hand slide from my shoulder up to my throat and take a firm grip. My breath wheezes in my throat while he forces me to look at him. "Now which is it going to be, Assassino, the hard way?" The grip on my neck squeezes harder and spots begin to flit across my vision. My brain is screaming for me to fight back, but I can't make myself move: my muscles frozen with shock. "Or would you prefer the easy way?" I hungrily gulp in air when he relocates that hand to my left breast and gives a painfully unwanted squeeze. My eyes pop open more as my panic level rises. "Your eyes have gold flecks in them. Borgia will love seeing them show fear like they are right now. Will you scream for him?"

"Do you not know that that is no way to treat a lady?" I dimly hear a smooth male Italian voice call out from deeper in the alley. I turn my head to look in the voice's direction and see an outfit that I recognize. It was the same white and red ensemble that I'd seen leaving the Caserma 2 weeks ago. My brain helpfully points out all the shiny weapons that are attached to him. His deep hood prevents me from seeing his whole face; only his mouth, chin and nose are visible. His goatee is thick but for an old scar cutting through the right side of his mustache and lips.

"You'd best not get involved. This one's mine, go get your own putana." The guard growled at the man. When my captor leaned away to turn and face the advancing threat, I take the opportunity to flatten his family jewels with my knee. His painful grip on my body abruptly loosens and vanishes as he drops like a stone to cup his injured manhood. I quickly scooted down the alley toward the guy who spoke.

"And now I'm glad I took that self defense class." I mutter to myself. "You have no idea how glad I am that you showed up, Messere." My voice rings with sincerity while my body shakes with fear and adrenalin. My right arm comes up to circle my ribs under my bust while my left hand comes up to rub my throat. I hope it doesn't bruise too much. My eyes flick back and forth between the militia who assaulted me and the unknown man who interrupted.

"Stand back here while I will see that he does not bother you again, Bella." He spoke firmly. I see him walk past me and continue his advance on the lone recovering militia. His stalk reminds me of an eagle as it circles wounded prey.


	10. Chapter 10

**10**

Another lone guard looked in the alley just as my rescuer 'took care of' my attacker. I'm glad that I'm not squeamish at the sight of blood. Now we're on the run and looking for a place to hide. My rescuer is a couple paces ahead of me and from the looks of him; he's doing his best to not outpace me.

Gasping in lungfuls of breath, we pelt around another corner. I've never been happier that I trained to run marathons. My legs burned with exertion, but, I can't to stop: Left turn, right turn, and dodge some people. The wild ringing of tossed coins creates mob-like crowds behind us.

I nearly trip when my rescuer abruptly slows down to grab my arm with his left hand. "Hey!" I squeak while wiggling my right arm. "What are you doing?" Dismayed, I hope he isn't changing his mind about helping me get to a safe place.

"Sshh. You need to hide for a little while so I can take care of the guards following us." He guides me towards a large cart of hay. "Climb in here. You'll be safe." I eye him sceptically while he helps me climb into said cart of hay. "Stay here and be quiet. I'll come get you when the guards are gone. I promise."

I burrow deep into the pile and cup my hands around my face to make room to breathe without eating hay. The prickling from the hay is a discomfort that I could gladly go without. Unfortunately, I'm stuck here for a little while, at least. The heat from being under so much hay is stifling; I'm sweating after just a few minutes.

Not long after I settled into the hay, the sounds of many booted feet go clomping by the cart that I'm hiding in. "Where are they? Have you seen them?"My breath stills in my throat. "Don't lie to me! Where did the man and woman, dressed in white, go?" Regular peasants don't like the Guards. They're bullies that need to be taught a lesson.

Wiping sweat from my face, I resolve to get someone, anyone, to teach me how to fight. Something has to be done for the people of Roma. I know that I'm tired of being pushed around and I'm willing to bet that the rest of Roma is, as well.

"Madonna, you can come out now, I am back." My rescuer is finally back. An eager grin split my face at the sound of his voice. "The guards are gone, for now. Come. I know where we can go." I climb out of the hay mound and confront him.

"Who are you?"

"I am Ezio Auditore da Firenze, Bella." He announces with a sweeping bow. "Who might you be, caro mio?"

If Bartolomeo won't teach me how to fight, maybe Ezio will. Doesn't hurt to ask, right?

"Daniela Savonorola. It's a pleasure to meet you, Ezio."


End file.
